


Days Ahead

by Peachie5000



Category: SU - Fandom, Steven Universe (Cartoon), steven universe future - Fandom
Genre: Corrupted Steven Universe, Gen, Kaiju Steven - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, anxiety attack, corrupted!steven, mostly metaphorical, some sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachie5000/pseuds/Peachie5000
Summary: Steven recounts some days after his breakdown.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Days Ahead

Steven didn’t always think about what had happened.

Some days were actually good! He’d wake up at the usual hour to the sounds of the gems making breakfast. The clattering kitchenware was pretty loud and would generally send clanking sounds up to his room to let his brain know he'd have to go down soon before they worried. Once he’d willed himself to open his eyes, he’d sometimes get up right away, and as a bonus, his spine wouldn’t even hurt when he sat up. Even when it did ache a little, it was only a dull pain- a prickly reminder that his magic blood could heal his magic body so his bones could piece themselves back together any way they could. But that was good too! Sure it was bad that it prevented him from truly comprehending how much he’d utterly destroyed his bone structure as a kid, but that was a very negative way of looking at it. His healing was good, helpful even! Mostly! 

On said good days, he could almost put the pain behind him, throw it into the back of his mind with everything else that sat in its crevices. He could live his normal life and be with his friends who understood he wasn’t normal and maybe freakish but ultimately, doing better. Better than a colossal breakdown right? 

But some days were bad. Undeniably so, and he’d always start them the same way. Those days, he’d wake up in a cold sweat after reliving his own destruction. A dream where everyone he loved had left and he was left, staring at himself, the shatterer, the monster he was. That monster that towered above him, easily able to crush him, overwhelm him with its strength, if it wanted to. Maybe if the monster would stare at him as if it wanted nothing more than to swallow him whole, digest his flesh and merge whatever nutrients it provided into its own, it would’ve been welcomed. As a merged being, they’d become one: one identity, one entity that could be fought, destroyed, beaten to a pulp by his family. That would be morbidly better over the look of horror, disfigured on its inhuman face, fear created by the presence of the small figure that stood before it. Like **it** was afraid of **him.**

Just recalling said dreams would make the wounds on Steven’s back spasm violently, a silent threat of what could happen again. If he became what he thought he was, again. And of course, he’d never admit that sometimes, when he was alone with nothing to distract himself, those thoughts would float in between the cracks of his scars. It was hard to leave his room when he believed he was dangerous.

How futile it all felt to pretend like the monster wasn’t in the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small self-indulgent piece. Steven's arc resonates a lot.


End file.
